


Worth the Wait

by sirbartonslady



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: M/M, Post epilogues, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7738930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirbartonslady/pseuds/sirbartonslady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After centuries of waiting and searching, Mikleo has finally found his revived soulmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Special huge thanks to my dear friend Charliez (@katamarii) for being a sounding board and a beta reader and sympathetic ear. She and I both began crafting our fanfics about the same time and bounced ideas off each other and I could never have done this without her!

It's funny how things happen, how things strike you. One minute you're contemplating your entire life, thinking about things that affected you long ago and things that you are aiming for, and the next minute, you see your entire life flash before your eyes. When you've lived several centuries and spent those centuries getting to know thoroughly the bowels of your continent, that life flashing before your eyes can be confusing. It's no wonder your reflexes might not be what they used to be. (Or maybe that is just an excuse?)

It's also funny the weird things you get used to enduring, like falling into seemingly-bottomless pits. When you've explored enough ruins, you get used to how their traps work, but you still trip them, sometimes for old time's sake. _Honestly, can't these ruins come up with better traps? This is so old-fashioned_. Though, to be fair, he supposed that after all this time, he should've been better at avoiding these kinds of traps... He encountered them in almost every single ruins he explored; you'd think he'd be better at this.

Water Seraph Mikleo was used to pitfalls and falling. He even carried a canteen full of water for him to manipulate at will in order to cushion his fall and help himself get out of holes. But this particular one was deeper than most, and had caught him off guard.

Falling into this hole had been bad of course, but that was offset by the hand that had grabbed his wrist as he clung to the ledge. He recognized that glove... he was sure he recognized this presence.

“You okay down there?” A voice called down, the face shrouded by the light pouring through the oculus overhead. “You nearly plunged to your death! Here, let me help you up.”

_Sorey..._ He'd spent three centuries waiting for this man to return. For the beginning of his life, Sorey had been his best friend, his better half, his soulmate. They had had a happy childhood of exploring and being obnoxious kids. And then, shortly after becoming an adult, Sorey had journeyed out of Elysia, and had become the Shepherd, the Hero of the continent of Glenwood. He had journeyed with Mikleo and three other seraphim, and at the end of his journey, he ended the Age of Chaos. In doing so, he had bound himself with the badly-corrupted Maotelus, surrendering himself to an ageless sleep while Maotelus slowly underwent purification. After three centuries, Mikleo's best friend was finally awake and walking the land again!

Abruptly, Mikleo was pulled up to the surface, out of the hole. As he pulled himself into an upright sitting position, he looked at the man before him.

The hair was long and white, not at all like he remembered of his best friend, but those familiar eyes glinted with mischief and kindness, a unique blend that only Sorey had ever been able to pull off. Mikleo felt his own eyes beginning to water.

“Quite a mess you got yourself in. Do you visit ruins often?” The other man said pleasantly as he smoothed back his hair, pulling it back into a queue. “Pitfall traps are stupidly common in underground ruins like this, you know. You really should be more careful. Oh, where are my manners? How do you do? I'm Sorey, a wandering seraph.”

Mikleo's mind ground to a halt. So Sorey had returned as a seraph? Then that meant... Before he could stop himself, he heard himself exclaiming: “Don't you recognize me, Sorey? It's me, Mikleo! Your best friend! We grew up together in Elysia!”

“Mik...leo?” He spoke the name hesitantly. “Your name... It sounds familiar but...”

There was a distant rumbling. Another trap had been set off. “Never mind. Come, Sorey, let's get out of here. It's not safe in here. Let's get outside and we can introduce ourselves properly.”

He reached for Sorey's hand, and true to his friend's nature, Sorey just let him take hold of him and drag him. Mikleo wasn't great with directions, but he had left a decent supply of Artes-infused water outside the entrance to these ruins, water he could sense, as a beacon for himself. He didn't know the exact route out of here, but he knew the direction to the exit he sought. That was good enough.

Hurrying along the corridors of the interior of the hilltop shrine, with Sorey being towed along behind him, he thought through what he'd been told by his friends in the centuries before.

Some three hundred years ago, Shepherd Sorey had bound himself to the corrupted Great Lord Seraph, Maotelus, to help purify him. Once Maotelus was finally free of malevolence, Sorey would be released, so went the theory. Mikleo had remained with Sorey's successor, Rose, the new Shepherd, until her death of age about sixty years later. After Shepherd Rose's death, two hundred and forty years ago, the four seraphim bound to her had found their pact dissolved. After a few years of traveling with Rose's successor, the Prime Lord Seraph, Lailah, had chosen to return to Ladylake, the capitol of Hyland, to be enshrined again and await a new Shepherd to draw her out. Rather than go with Rose's successor, the earth seraph Edna had returned to her mountain, where she built a new shrine to her late brother. After Rose's death, Mikleo had chosen to not enter into a new pact, and had instead chosen to bind his seraphic nature to a portable vessel and travel the world. He was accompanied for a while by Zaveid, the wind seraph who had served Sorey and Rose, but ultimately, he and Zaveid parted ways after a few years.

Before becoming the Shepherd, Sorey's dream had been to travel the world and study the ruins of the ancient past. He had been an avid devotee of the Celestial Record, and Mikleo had been caught up in his enthusiasm. With Sorey unable to leave his place while Maotelus slept, Mikleo had taken it upon himself go exploring in Sorey's honor, living out his dream. He'd found he couldn't leave the continent of Glenwood without running into crippling malevolence, so he remained here on Glenwood and traveled around. There were enough ruins to keep him occupied anyway.

He had also had another reason to wander the world. His home, Elysia, had ceased to exist in the sixty years between when he left home and when he tried to return. It wasn't completely gone, but most of his family had left. His fellow seraphim had chosen to move closer to humans, to establish their own domains and begin to mingle with humans. And thus Elysia was ultimately no longer a thriving seraphim home, but a memorial shrine. Only one tiny family of shrinekeepers, a husband and wife couple, remained to tend the graves and keep the place blessed.

Before he'd left on his journey to discover ruins, and to pass the time until Sorey awoke again, Lailah had given Mikleo some advice, telling him to be patient, and to spend time seeking his own answers. She suggested that he find a way to learn Purification himself, so that when Sorey awoke, if he awoke as the Shepherd again, Mikleo might serve as his Prime Lord. She had also warned him that if Sorey awoke as a seraph, that he might remember nothing of his human life, and would certainly remember little, or even nothing, of his Shepherd journey. Shepherds who became seraphim surrendered most of their pasts, so as not to burden them with painful memories.

“Ahh, so that's the exit! I got so lost! It's a good thing I happened upon you... er... did you say your name was Mikleo?”

The exit loomed ahead of them, the fresh air from the outside gusting through the propped-open doorway. Suddenly, Sorey was his old self, laughing joyfully and tugging on Mikleo's arm to hurry him along, except that they were heading _out_ of the ruins, not into. That alone was a little odd. But maybe this Sorey had been trapped here for too long and was eager to see the outside? He could imagine being eager to leave if he'd been lost inside the ruins for a while.

“How long were you wandering here, Sorey?”

“I don't really know. It's hard to know the passage of time when you're underground, after all.”

Three years or so ago, on the third centennial of the End of Chaos (three hundred years to the day after Sorey defeated Heldalf, the Lord of Calamity and bonded with Maotelus) Mikleo had traveled to Camlann, where he'd met up with Zaveid, who'd had the same idea. They had both journeyed past the barrier they'd erected, and into the depths of the ruins of Camlann, as they did each centennial anniversary, to see the progress on Sorey's purification. They had found the crater empty. Maotelus, finally purified, had presumably returned to the continental bedrock, to bless the entire continent; the place had had a powerful aura of blessing radiating from it, indicating that the Great Seraph was awake and doing his work. Sorey, on the other hand, had been nowhere to be seen. They had speculated that Sorey had awoken, and had left Camlann. How he had gotten past the barrier, neither of them knew. But he had done so, clearly. Maybe Maotelus had helped him?

As they descended the crumbling staircase to the plains below the mountain shrine ruins, Mikleo stopped to collect his artes-infused water into another canteen.

“Wow!” Sorey said. “I've never seen this side of the shrine!”

As if this day couldn't get any weirder! Mikleo turned toward him as he stood up, capping his canteen. “What do you mean? Are you saying there's another entrance to these ruins?”

“Well, yes... I came through a doorway in the cliffside. I don't have any idea where that is, though... I don't see anywhere around here that looks at all like it.”

Cliffs?

“Sorey, there are no cliffs anywhere near here, not for miles and miles. This mountain is very smooth and round. You must have come in through some connected ruins.”

“Really?” He looked puzzled. “I _thought_ I was going in circles, but maybe I really wasn't. I certainly tried to go back where I'd come from, but I obviously failed. Maybe these ruins are much bigger than they look!”

“They must be, but I don't think we should go in from this side again. Not without better preparation, in any case.” Mikleo hefted his canteens and slung them across his back, shifting his staff around to use it as a walking stick. “Come along, let's go find somewhere to sit down and chat. Entryways of ruins are picturesque, but can be dangerous.”

“Lead on,” Sorey said companionably.

As they strolled down the hill (it actually was technically a mountain due to its elevation, but the slope was so gentle that it felt like a hill), Mikleo privately marveled at how right it felt already, having Sorey with him again. Even if this wasn't exactly _his_ Sorey, the one he'd grown up with, just his presence was alleviating the deep loneliness he'd grown used to in the past century or so.

_I wonder how much he remembers. Does he remember anything besides recognizing my name?_ He glanced back over his shoulder, as casually as he could, and his heart skipped a beat in excitement. _Dammit, what am I, a young girl with a crush? This is Sorey, my best friend, the person who knew me best. Why do I feel so anxious?_

It was so weird to see Sorey with long white hair... If he thought back, he could still see that short, messy tree-bark brown hair that Shepherd Sorey had had. Still... he couldn't deny the face that peered out from underneath that messy mop of white was Sorey's, and those eyes were just as he remembered.

They arrived at a lone tree and Mikleo unloaded some of his packs, setting them down by the trunk and parking himself in the sparse grass. “This is a good place to stop and rest. So, tell me your story, Sorey. You look so much like my foster-brother. You must be him, reborn as a seraph. Tell me about yourself, please.” He was pleased that his voice was so steady, given how his heart was hammering right now.

“Reborn?” The other seraph tilted his head, and the angle of the tilt made his heart ache. _(You're my Sorey, even if you've forgotten me.)_ “I don't know about any of that. I just know that I woke up in some ruins one day, and all I could remember was a couple of names. I wasn't sure which one was my own, I just remembered those names, but a kind seraph named Mao was the one who found me right after I woke up, and he told me that my name was Sorey, and he said that he owed me a great debt of gratitude. He never said _why_ he was so grateful to me, but he taught me a few things, and then he helped me to leave the ruins and told me to head west.”

“You said my name sounds familiar. Was my name one of those names you recalled when you woke up?”

“I think so... It feels like it. I can't honestly say that I remember exactly what I recalled and knew the moment I woke up, because it was so awkward and disconcerting. However, you look so familiar; I know that I know you from somewhere, but I can't remember anything concrete. I feel like I've always known you, but I can't remember anything about it to prove it.”

It was discouraging that Sorey had forgotten so much, but it was also _encouraging_ , that he hadn't completely forgotten everything. Some Shepherds forget everything, even their own names, when they awoke as seraphim. It seemed that Sorey had been lucky enough to retain a few faint memories at least. He just couldn't quite connect everything just yet. “Tell me more. We've got plenty of time, and I want to know your story.”

Sorey detailed further how he'd awakened in the ruins of Camlann (he hadn't known the name of where he was, but his description of where he woke up matched precisely where they'd left Shepherd Sorey to his ageless sleep, in a crater in Camlann) and how this seraph “Mao” (clearly Maotelus) had helped him adjust to his amnesiac form, helped him bind his seraphic essence to a small object he could carry around, and gave him some directions to get past the barrier around the ruins they were in.

“When I woke up, I had only a strange sword, a book, and this weird object on me. Mao said this object would be the best thing for me to make as my vessel, so he helped me do that.” The young seraph reached into a pack slung across his back and produced the object he used as his vessel; Mikleo felt his jaw drop open.

“You made Siegfried into your vessel?!”

“Siegfried? Is that its name? What is it?” The seraph held the pistol entirely wrong as he placed it in his lap along with the book. “I thought about making it be the book, but Mao said the book is in really poor shape, that it'll crumble and break apart soon, which isn't a good vessel. He suggested that I get it rebound with a new cover before considering making it my permanent vessel.”

“Did you read that book?”

“Oh yes, it was the only thing I had to entertain myself when I was lonely and confused. So I read it, cover to cover. The Celestial Record! What an inspiring book, and so many amazing legends!” His eyes glittered. “This book is why I started exploring other ruins. Mao told me I should wander the world and see if I could find people who know me, or things that might trigger some memories, but I found such pleasure in exploring dusty ruins and reading monoliths. Are you an explorer too, Mikleo?” He leaned forward, pressing his hands against the ground in front of him with such enthusiasm. “Can I ask you to let me tag along with you for a while? I promise I won't be a burden!”

Mikleo felt his heart lift; “Your company would be most welcome, yes. But there's no need to rush right this instant. First, I need to tell you _my_ story, don't I? I need to tell you about the Sorey that I knew. Isn't that only fair?”

Sorey's eyes lit up; “I'd love to hear it! You say we grew up together. What sort of things did we do?”

“Are you sitting comfortably? Because what I'm about to tell you... Well, it may be hard to believe.”

 

* * *

 

Sorey's eyes were comically huge and his jaw unhinged as Mikleo trailed off and ended his story. The water seraph had managed to wrangle his young newfound (re-found?) friend into staying silent until the narrative was over, and now that it was, it looked like Sorey had no idea which questions to ask first.

“The Shepherd...” He breathed. “I was _the Shepherd_? I can't... Wow. And my squires are long dead? Did they live full lives? Have families?”

“Yes, they both died of old age. Princess Alisha married and raised two children. Shepherd Rose never married but she was surrounded by her own form of family in the end. And we were there with her in her final moments too. You were in her thoughts at the very end. I'm afraid I can't speak for Alisha's death; I wasn't there, but I heard about it. She became very well known throughout Glenwood as a peacemaker. When she died, there was mourning throughout the continent, grand wakes to celebrate her life. I think she was more well known than you and Shepherd Rose combined. If you like, I'm sure we can find some of her descendants. It'll take a while, but we can find them.”

Sorey looked momentarily sad; “I don't remember her at all. I don't remember any of those names you've mentioned. The only names that make any sense to me are yours, and the place you say is our hometown, Elysia. I don't remember any other names or faces. I'm so sorry, Mikleo.”

“It's all right. Your memories were probably sacrificed to create your seraph self. Or maybe you gave them up to speed up Maotelus' purification. But whatever the reason, you're back, you're with me again, and we can travel all of Glenwood together now, just like you always wanted to. It'll be like old times, like we were never apart!” He could feel himself getting almost too excited, but this is what he'd been waiting three centuries for. Thirty decades. Three hundred years. A long time by anyone's estimation! At long last, they would be together as they had been before this Shepherd business tangled everything up!

Sorey looked unhappy for a moment. “You know, Mikleo... I feel like I was meant to find you, but... I do need to search for my own self too. I think I need to do that alone. I would be grateful if you let me tag along with you for a while until I get my bearings, but... I think I need to do a few things by myself. Is that going to be a problem?”

And just like that, Mikleo found his aspirations crashing down. _This isn't exactly my Sorey, no matter how much I want him to be. He doesn't remember anything about me except my name, and he doesn't remember anything we endured. I have to give him time to find his own answers, or he'll come to resent me. I can't suffocate him_.

“Of course that's fine. I'll be waiting for you to find your answer. In the mean time, let's go back to find your old friends who are still around. Even if you don't remember them, they want to see you. Besides! We need to get your copy of the Celestial Record repaired like Maotelus suggested, since it's always been important to you and it's in pitiful shape. You might consider making it your permanent vessel so you can return Siegfried to its proper owner.”

“My proper vessel? But what's wrong with this... Siegfried?”

“Siegfried is a weapon. Personally, I don't think you should make a weapon your vessel, not such a gentle person as yourself. Also, didn't I just tell you that it actually belongs to someone else? Zaveid loaned it to you for you to fight Maotelus. He may have said he was giving it to you, but he does want it back.”

Sorey had placed a hand against his pouch. The gesture was obviously protective. “You want me to give up my current vessel? Isn't that dangerous?”

“It's not dangerous if you transfer it correctly. I'm sure we can find someone to help us, since I'm afraid I don't quite remember how to do it. I went from being a Sub Lord to being a wandering explorer.”

Sorey looked skeptical, and Mikleo quickly dialed back his rhetoric; “If you don't want to, don't worry about it. I don't mean to pressure you. I'm sure Zaveid will understand. But I do think you should consider it.” He pointed to the battered remains of the book in Sorey's hands. “That book, once fixed up, is the perfect vessel for you. You lived by that book as a human. You dragged me around to various ruins to try and verify what was written in the Celestial Record. I can't think of a more fitting vessel for you as a seraph, honestly. I agree with Maotelus that with the state it's currently in, you shouldn't make it your vessel, but fix it up good as new, and you're good to go. But, like I said, it's your choice, and I won't pressure you either way.”

“No, I... I think you're right, I probably should, if this Siegfried is a weapon. Mao told me it would be a bad idea to bind myself to a weapon because weapons can foster fear which leads to malevolence and corruption. He must not have known it was a weapon. I sure didn't know that myself.”

“Please don't rush the decision on my behalf.”

Sorey smiled faintly; “I think I'll take your advice and think on it for a while. Where are you headed from here? You're just going to leave those ruins there behind?” He gestured over his shoulder to the ruins they had exited.

“We set off some traps; I think it's wisest to walk away for a while and let things settle down. A lot of those traps will go dormant again after a while.”

“Oh, I see. Well, where are we going to go then? You're getting ready to leave, after all.”

Mikleo grasped his staff and canteens and stood up; “Let's go back to Ladylake; there are people you should meet there. And on the way there too. You don't mind, do you?”

“No, I don't mind at all.” Sorey packed away his book and vessel and stood up as well. “Let's go, shall we? I'm eager to meet the friends of yours that you say knew me.” His use of the word “eager” belied his consternation. Mikleo could hardly blame him, though it was slightly annoying.

_You always did try to hide when you're upset or don't feel quite right._ He tore his gaze away from the seraph and busied himself with readying his pack across his back. Once he couldn't fuss any longer without being obvious about it, he planted his staff, put on a bright smile, and looked at his new companion. “Anything you wanted to do here before we leave?”

“Not that I can think of, no. I'm ready whenever you are.” The look on Sorey's face was penetrating and knowing, which was irksome when one considered they had barely known each other for more than twenty minutes by this Sorey's memory. Despite having no memories of their shared background, he had the old Sorey's mannerisms down to an art form, including the knowing and tolerant, patient head tilt that said in this moment, without so many words, 'Mikleo I know you're stalling for time and it's okay.' (Or maybe he was reading too much into it again, but he knew that Look. He knew it so well. He and the old Sorey had been adept at giving each other that Look.)

Somehow, without so many words, without having any memories and tangible knowledge, this Sorey knew that Mikleo was reluctant to head down this mountain for a reason, without knowing the reason, but he was far too considerate to actually call that into question. So he waited to see what would happen.

Steeling himself for the journey, and the obnoxious wind seraph that he knew was in the region and would find them in no time, Mikleo straightened his shoulders, gestured in the direction he was heading (as if it wasn't obvious), and then set off, with his companion falling into stride with him.

“So, tell me, what sort of seraph are you? You know how we have different elemental types, yes? I'm a water seraph. What about you? Since you were a human, you didn't have an element. So what are you? I can't really tell, myself, which is weird. It's like you're suppressing your nature.”

Sorey grinned; “Mao... I mean, Maotelus, told me that I'm a light seraph.”

“Light?” A hitch in his stride interrupted his rhythm. “There is no such thing as a light seraph. 'Light' is an ephemeral property, not an actual element.”

In response, Sorey held his hand up, and into his cupped hand flared to life a bead of bright white light, sparking and sizzling with contained power. The way it crackled in his hands was oddly familiar.

“Mao said I was like him, capable of harnessing the most powerful and dangerous of seraphic artes, but he warned me to be careful about experimenting in populated areas, because the thunder it causes can really scare humans.”

_Thunder?_ Mikleo stopped in his tracks. “Y-You're a _lightning_ seraph?”

The rarest and most powerful of seraphim, lightning seraphim were capable of harnessing and wielding the wrath of the very heavens, the speed of wind and the heat of fire, with a cold precision all its own. They were almost mythical in their power. Supposedly no more than four or five could exist at any one time. _He's like Gramps_... _How oddly fitting, when you think of it like that..._

“Like I said, a light seraph. Right now I can't really make big bolts of lightning, at least not with any control. But I'm still, er...” He blushed slightly and then dismissed the ball of light. “Mao called me a 'baby seraph' and said I'd mature into my full power in time. He told me to travel around and find myself, find my reason for existing, and then when I was ready, to come back and find him, and he'd help me. I'm not quite sure I understood what he meant, but I feel like I was meant to find you, Mikleo. Is that weird?”

“Well, that's... No it's not that weird, I guess...” He fumbled his words and tried to not blush himself at being so awkward. _Baby seraph? Really? Is it because he was recently reborn as a seraph?_ “That's good that he'll help you in time. And I'm glad to have found you. I've been looking for you, after all.”

The two of them resumed their walk down the slope of the mountain, silently companionable. Sorey was looking around with great interest, at one point stopping at a crack in the ground (it was too small to be called a cliff) and gazing out at the land spreading out below them with childlike wonder.

A lazy wind tumbled through, and Mikleo frowned. He recognized this presence, of course. He'd guessed this would happen.

Sure enough, as they came to another lone tree clinging to the mountainside, there was a figure slouched indolently against the tree, watching them.

“Heyla, Mik-boy! Long time no see, eh?”

“Good day, Zaveid,” he said as calmly and evenly as he could. He didn't have to raise his voice because he knew the old seraph would hear him.

Zaveid, a very powerful and very old wandering wind seraph who had subjected himself to Shepherd Sorey and had become a Sub Lord in service of the Purifying Shepherd, was much more vivacious and charismatic than his age would have a person think. Despite being easily some fifteen hundred years old (give or take a century or two; Mikleo wasn't entirely sure of his exact age, nor did he care that much), he was not particularly jaded or bitter. He could seem like it, sometimes, but he was highly resistant to malevolence, and he seemed to make friends easily. Even Mikleo (grudgingly) liked him, though he refused to admit it, because he knew the old bastard would never let him hear the end of it.

“Fancy seeing you traveling with someone else!” Zaveid tilted a lazy salute at them both. “I'm jealous! You always refuse _my_ company! You gonna introduce me to your compa...” His eyes widened and he trailed off as he got a good look at Sorey, outfit and all. “No way...!”

Mikleo just smiled to himself. He'd just scored a point in a little private game between himself and ol' Grampveid. He waited until the three of them were standing in a cluster beneath the sparse boughs of the tree. “Zaveid, you remember Sorey, don't you?”

“Sorey! Man, it's good to see you again!” Zaveid made as if he was going to give the youngest seraph a bear-hug, but changed his mind halfway through it. “You look... different.”

“I'm afraid I don't know you,” Sorey said regretfully. “Were you one of my seraph Sub Lords when I was a Shepherd?”

Zaveid's expression flattened a bit. “So you're a seraph now, huh? That means you don't remember anything about your Shepherd journey. That's a pity. But yes, I'm Zaveid, and I was your wind-aligned Sub Lord.”

Mikleo hadn't had the heart to mention the tragedy of Dezel to Sorey, and it looked like Zaveid was in no hurry to bring the topic up either. Dezel, the first wind-aligned Sub Lord to serve Sorey, had died saving Squire Rose (who later became Shepherd Rose) from his own folly, and Zaveid had chosen to take Dezel's place, since the two had had similar fighting styles and thus could armatize almost identically. There had been a significant difference in the strength between Dezel and Zaveid, surely due to their age differences, but ultimately, the record books and legends never mentioned Dezel in any of the stories about Shepherd Sorey, so it was easy for him to be lost. The tragedy surrounding Dezel's life and death had haunted Sorey at the end of his journey, so Mikleo was in no hurry to revive that pain.

“Zaveid is the one who gave you Siegfried, Sorey,” he said instead, giving the oldest seraph a hard look to hopefully stay his tongue. “I'm sure he'd like it back, as soon as you can return it. No rush, though.”

“Hey, have you got ol' Siegfried still? That's great!” Zaveid grinned. “I've been hoping to get it back some time. Whenever you want to give it back, I'll gladly take it. I've gone this long without it; I can go a while longer, though I'm lucky to not have encountered much malevolence to need it.”

Sorey looked bewildered; “It's a useful against malevolence? Mikleo said it's a weapon.”

“It is. It's a pistol. Its purpose is to kill hellions by severing their bond with malevolence. It doesn't _purify_ at all, it cuts the bindings. That's a very, very simple explanation, so it's not completely accurate, but that's the general gist. Basically, it's a weapon against malevolence. But it is still a weapon.” He tilted his head. “Is there a problem?”

Sorey looked at Mikleo with troubled eyes; “I definitely need to change my vessel, then. I chose not to bind to the sword for that reason; I didn't know this thing was a weapon too.”

Zaveid tipped his hat (it wasn't exactly the same tophat as he'd used three hundred years ago, a legacy of Dezel; he'd left that as a gift on Shepherd Rose's grave, as a way of leaving Dezel with her; but he found he liked the style of hat and kept using it going forward) slightly forward as he leaned back against the tree trunk; “I think you boys should tell me what you both know.”

 

* * *

 

The sun was westering when the three of them got to walking. Zaveid seemed interested in accompanying them to Ladylake. He insisted that he was thinking of heading there anyway, but it wasn't hard to see his ulterior motive -- he was as drawn to Sorey as Mikleo was. He wanted to travel with them for his own reasons that had nothing to do with their destination.

_I need to ask Lailah if this is common with seraphim who are reborn from Shepherds... do they retain the Shepherd's magnetism that draws other seraphim to them?_ Then again, there was a chance she wouldn't answer due to the limits of her own vow, the one that allowed her to purify as a Prime Lord. Questions about important things like that were often unanswerable by her, lest she lose her ability to purify by speaking about secrets she shouldn't. At least he'd know right away if she was unable to answer, because she'd immediately try to crack a very bad joke, and be crestfallen if called on it.

There was also the chance that she just didn't know the answer to the question. But at least he knew she'd be honest and say as much if that were the case. She only got weird when she _did_ know something and was prevented from saying as much.

“Last one off the mountain's a rotten egg!” Zaveid said playfully as he hopped onto a small outcrop of rocks that overlooked the very foot of the mountain. A sprawling grassy plain stretched out until just before the edge of sight, where a forest then grew up. Then he launched himself off it into flight (the drop wasn't too great), sailing through the air and landing with a gusty thump. Sorey succumbed to this enthusiasm and broke into a sprint; pragmatically, he chose to not leap off the ledge, instead rushing down a slope and keeping his feet close to the ground.

“Looks like you're the rotten egg, Mik-boy!” The wind carried Zaveid's laugh back to Mikleo as the two of them reached the boundary between mountain and plain.

Grinding his teeth and reminding himself that Zaveid played these games just to get a rise out of him, Mikleo continued down the same path at his own leisure. He was carrying a fair bit more weight than they were, so he wasn't about to succumb to their antics. He didn't really fancy making his canteens rattle and clunk around, nor did he want to have his pack unbalance him. Thus, he took his time threading between the brush that skirted the foot of the mountain, and waited until he was standing with the others to talk to them.

“I'm impressed, Mikleo,” Zaveid said approvingly. “Time was when you'd be yelling at us for being such kids.”

“I'm an adult now, Zaveid, and I'm used to how you behave.” He looked up at the sky, at the clouds drifting overhead, stained in a myriad of colors by the setting sun. “I think I would like to find some place to settle down for the night soon. I don't like traveling in the dark.”

Zaveid started to say something (possibly a quip about how the water seraph had no trouble with dark and damp ruins, but hated traveling in the open at night), but Mikleo shot him the most ill-tempered glare he could muster at this point and the old seraph changed his mind, holding his tongue. He didn't even make a rude joke about “Mikky-boy, afraid of the dark” this time. Small blessings, it seemed.

“Let's stop for the night at the edge of the forest,” was all the old seraph said. “Surely you can make it that far?”

“Yes, I suppose I can make it that far.” Mikleo was exhausted, but not quite falling apart just yet. Seraphim needed sleep sooner or later, even when they didn't strictly need food, and he made a point of following human patterns out of very old habit. Even if Zaveid didn't tire easily due to his age and his power (and he probably drew energy from wind gusts in the same way that Mikleo could draw some energy from a river or stream) that didn't mean that the others didn't still need rest.

Sorey seemed inquisitive and curious, looking around him with almost animated curiosity as they walked toward the greenleaf forest in the distance.

It was well and truly dark by the time they reached the first trees. Then, once they found a decent spot to settle down for the night, Zaveid seemed to vanish. Mikleo could sense the wind seraph's presence in the region, but it seemed he wanted to be alone for a while. Or maybe he was giving the “youngsters” time alone?

_Stop that._ He scolded himself as he settled his belongings against a tree and pulled his blanket from the pack. “Sorry, Sorey, I only have the one blanket. If you get cold, we can share.”

“Thanks for the offer,” Sorey said with a big smile, “but this cloak of mine actually is pretty good at keeping the weather out. It works as an impromptu blanket when I need it.” He shrugged off the old Shepherd's cloak that he'd worn centuries ago, swinging it around to drape across himself like a blanket. It was probably highly infused with seraphic mana now, so it would not be visible to humans without high resonance, and it was resistant to the deterioration of time.

The two of them settled against the tree, in close proximity to each other but with enough space between them to give them some semblance of privacy. Conversation dropped off as both of them dozed in the nighttime darkness. It felt a little like old times, and Mikleo was able to fall asleep more quickly than usual.

 

* * *

 

“What is this place?” Sorey shaded his eyes as he looked up at the mountain towering ahead of them.

“This is Rayfalke Spiritcrest,” Zaveid said as he rested a hand against a rock outcropping. “Home to an old friend of yours, as a matter of fact. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you.”

“Another Sub Lord of mine when I was a Shepherd?”

“Yup. Her name's Edna, and she was your earth seraph.”

The three of them had been traveling for a couple of weeks now, and they were close to Ladylake at this point. A few days ago, they had stopped in a village called Galvaron, which sat on the outskirts of the ancient city of Marlind. Galvaron was a village of both human and seraph artists and artisans, specifically ones who carried on and passed along the history of their kind in the form of oral and written legends. Bards and book-writers of both human and seraphic nature gathered here to share information and document history.

Their purpose for stopping in Galvaron had been to visit The Shepherd's Grove, a shop run by humans with high resonance, descendents of previous Shepherds. These shopkeepers had updated copies of the Celestial Record for sale, and also had the tools to repair damaged and broken-down books. Sorey had submitted his tattered copy of the Celestial Record, and while they repaired it, he indulged himself in reading an updated one. He had ultimately purchased a copy of the newest edition of it, but still wanted to keep his old one, for sentimental reasons. So now he carried two editions of the book with him.

Much of the finer points of Shepherd Sorey's journey were not documented in the Celestial Record; the seraph Sorey was frequently asking for clarification on various things when he sat down during rest periods to read through the updated copy.

Mikleo shifted his canteens around so that they rattled less, switched hands for his staff, and then looked at his companions. He didn't enjoy climbing mountains like this, but it was necessary in order to reach the shrine where Edna reportedly kept her vessel and called her home. If they were going to find Edna herself, the climb was unavoidable.

Without another word, the three of them began up the trail. Sorey was so absorbed in looking around, taking everything in, that he asked no questions at this time, and Zaveid seemed disinclined to speak, so Mikleo kept his thoughts to himself.

He was still trying to sort through everything and decide how he really felt, so it wasn't hard to remain quiet. He had things to occupy his mind, after all.

Then, after a while, he heard Zaveid speak softly; “Right about here, I believe.”

“What's that?”

“Right about here, three hundred years ago, I met you, Sorey. You and your two seraphim at the time, Lailah and Mikleo. You were on your way up this mountain to find Edna, and I was on my way up there myself, to see how Edna was doing. No, that's a lie. I was on my way up there to see her brother, Eizen, who had become a dragon. I was cocky and thought I'd go take care of Eizen myself, but after you three kicked my butt, I realized that I was not ready to try battling a dragon.” He pulled his hat brim down, pressing hair across his eyes so as to hide them. “I think... I think you guys saved my ass, and I didn't even know it. I think I might have made a fatal mistake if I hadn't crossed your path. I never really had the chance to thank you, Sorey. Until now, that is.”

Sorey seemed to consider how to respond to this. Then he smiled brightly; “I don't remember any of this, unfortunately, but I'm glad that my presence helped you, Zaveid. I wish I could remember it, to make your thanks have more meaning, but... well, I'm here now, so I'll accept your thanks and tell you that I'm glad to have met you. And I think I'm looking forward to meeting Edna again.”

A slow smile spread across Zaveid's face as he tipped the hat back, uncovering his eyes again; “It's good to have you back, Sorey. I admit, I'd forgotten how much I missed you. And now that the mushy stuff is out of the way, let's go find Edna!”

Mikleo waited until after Zaveid had gone up ahead, out of apparent earshot (though given his ability to read the wind, it was fair to say that there was no such thing as being “out of earshot” for Zaveid), before he spoke to Sorey; “You might want to remove your cloak before we go any further. Edna might not recognize you right away, but she will recognize that cloak. She has made a habit of avoiding other Shepherds since she returned here, so if she suspects you're a Shepherd, we'll have a hard time finding her. We'll be able to approach her much more easily if she doesn't know or suspect who you are until we can talk with her.”

Sorey blinked owlishly at him, and then nodded; “All right, same reason as why I took it off when we went through Galvaron, right?” Then he shrugged out of the cloak and folded it down neatly to place into his pack. “Here, do you want me to take some of your stuff? I feel kind of bad, with you carrying all that gear and trying to climb this mountain.”

“I'm used to carrying all this. It's fine.” He shifted his pack to center it on his back and pressed the butt end of his staff into the dirt to brace.

“It's _not_ fine, you stubborn mule. Here, let me carry something. Look at you, using that staff as a walking stick. C'mon, let me help.”

Mikleo glared at him briefly, and then unslung all of his canteens and handed them over. “Don't let them rattle too much.” Then he started up the trail again, leaving Sorey behind him, bewildered.

By the time Sorey had caught up to him after sorting out the three canteens of artes-infused water, Mikleo had recovered his composure (he had nearly burst into laughter at the exasperated look on Sorey's face when he handed over the canteens and then walked off) and was climbing the trail diligently. Zaveid was no longer in sight, but the trail was fairly clear, and there was a noticeable breeze gently grazing their backs as they walked, so neither of them worried.

Impressively, Sorey had arranged the canteens so that they made very little noise, though the water in them sometimes sloshed a bit when he moved too abruptly. The two of them walked in companionable silence. Mikleo had noticed in their travels that Sorey was much less prone to silence-filling small talk now as a seraph than he'd been as a human. Now that he could sense seraphic natures on a fundamental level, and feel at one with the elements, he probably didn't feel the need to use his voice to assert his presence; that was the general theory as to why humans spoke so much more than seraphim as a general rule. They lacked connection to their world, and so they used their voices to fill that void. Sorey was adapting to seraphic life with ease.

Abruptly, Mikleo found himself nearly face-planting as his foot slipped out from under him; the rock he'd stepped on had given way and he very nearly fell face-first into the mountainside. If it weren't for Sorey's proximity and incredibly fast reflexes, he would have been sprawled uncomfortably. Fortunately, Sorey was fast enough to grab his arm and steady him enough to keep him from taking an unfortunate dive. As it was, he was still staggering, regaining his lost balance, when he felt something bounce off his head.

“Were you woolgathering again, Meebo?” A familiar voice said from overhead. “How _are_ you still alive when you're so oblivious to your surroundings?”

Mikleo swallowed an irritated retort and looked up at the small figure emerging from the shadows on an outcropping several meters over his head.

Earth Seraph Edna was far older than she appeared, of course. Although she looked like a barely-pubescent girl, she was easily twice Mikleo's age, but she maintained a youthful appearance for her own private reasons.

She looked quite different from when he had last seen her, centuries ago, though the changes were largely cosmetic. She was following a recent fashion trend among humans, it seemed. Her golden hair spun out from clips in copious ringlets, spilling down to cover her shoulders. She was dressed in a long-sleeved velvet dress with lace ruffles spilling out of the high neckline, and satin ruffles adorned her sleeves and rimmed the skirt. In fact, she looked remarkably similar to a doll he'd seen on display last time he passed through Lastonbell.

She twirled a lace parasol in her hands before snapping it shut; “Are you going to answer me, Meebo, or just stare dumbly at me? I recognize you, even if you've gotten taller and grown your hair out.”

“I'm sorry,” he said frostily, “I wasn't aware that you were talking to me. Did you forget that my name is Mikleo, not Meebo?”

“Oh boo,” she snorted, though her mouth twitched into a smile. “I saw Grampveid swirl by, and when I sensed a water seraph, I figured it had to be you. However...” She turned her head a bit. “You...?”

“Edna!” Zaveid's voice called out from nearby. “There you are! Oh, look at you, a vision of loveliness!” He appeared in a flurry of wind, his hair swirling around him with the motion.

Sorey looked confused but held his tongue and watched the antics in front of him. Mikleo was privately glad for that steadiness.

“Are you going to leap down into my arms, dear Edna?” The old seraph held his arms out.

Edna scoffed softly as she eyed him; “Not even in your wildest dreams, Grampveid.”

“Well, you could at least come down here instead of standing up there and gazing down at us like you're judging us,” Mikleo said. “We can introduce you to our companion here if you come down here.”

_That_ was risky. Edna had a temper, and she was likely to tell them to bugger off if she felt bullied. There was even the risk of her running them off her mountain in her fury. But he was banking on her curiosity getting the better of her. She had given Sorey the most befuddled look before Zaveid interrupted. Mikleo was hoping that her curiosity would override her territorial nature. A roll of the dice, as the saying went.

Fortunately, his gamble worked. She seemed to waffle on this only briefly, before deliberately tumbling off the mountain shelf in a spectacular display of athletic prowess. She rolled into a somersault and landed with a firm thump in front of them.

As she straightened up, she snapped open the parasol and propped it against her shoulder. Mikleo couldn't tell if she was being coy, aggressive or defensive. She was openly displaying her weapon, after all, but that was common for her. She wasn't pointing it at them, granted, but that didn't mean she couldn't still use it in the blink of an eye.

“Who are you?” She said bluntly. “You look familiar. I don't usually forget a face.”

“That's not a very nice way of introducing yourself,” Sorey said with a smile. “I'm Sorey, a wandering seraph. Mikleo and I crossed paths in a mountain shrine, and he told me that I used to be a Shepherd. I understand you were one of my seraph partners when I was the Shepherd.”

Her eyes had grown huge; “Sorey? Y-you're back?” She shot a very sharp look at Mikleo. “You're sure it's him and not someone impersonating him?”

“Yes,” Mikleo said without hesitation. “I grew up with Sorey, and I would know if someone else was impersonating him.”

Edna surprised them all by dropping her umbrella and launching herself at Sorey, throwing her arms around him in a tackling hug. The force of her propulsion caused Sorey to have to spin around a few times, so that when he set her down as the momentum died down, he was clearly dizzy.

“I've missed you, Sorey,” she said as she let go. Then suddenly, abruptly, her face turned as red as a fruit and her eyes grew wide. She looked from Mikleo to Zaveid, and then back to Sorey.

“Is _that_ what it takes to get a hug from you, Edna?” Zaveid heckled gently with a grin. “Going to sleep for a few hundred years?”

“Multiply that by a hundred for you, Grampveid, and maybe I'll consider it,” she seethed furiously, snatching up her fallen parasol. “Sorey, come with me. You other two can just sit here and think about what you've done!”

“But we've done nothing!” Mikleo protested. “Or, at least, I did nothing. Zaveid can stand here until he rots for all I care, but--”

“Thanks a lot, Mik-boy!” The wind seraph laughed. “Come on, we'll just follow behind them. What's she going to do, topple the mountain on us?”

Edna glared at them but then turned her back on them and gestured up the mountain; “This way, Sorey. I'll tolerate them only if you insist upon it.”

“I'm afraid I must insist,” Sorey said with a smile. “They are my companions, after all. It's not fair for only me to get hospitality.”

Unexpectedly, Zaveid spoke, and his voice was soft but firm; “Would you truly deny me the chance to pay my respects to Eizen? He was a dear friend of mine and I've come all this way.”

She shrugged and continued up the rough path without another word, gesturing for them to follow her. The three other seraphim fell into line behind her. The climb soon became somewhat arduous as they scaled ever higher up the face of the Spiritcrest, and the ascent was utterly wordless the entire time. No one had anything to say. Sorey kept all his questions inside, and Mikleo didn't want to break the fragile silence, afraid that it would bring Edna and Zaveid into direct conflict. Every single time he'd visited here with Zaveid in the past three centuries, there had been this tension, despite how much the wind seraph tried to diffuse things with flirting.

In due time, they came to a smooth, flat outcropping that overlooked a spectacular panorama.

There, situated just in front of the panoramic view of the world below (for a moment, Mikleo thought to himself “You can see all of Glenwood from up here!” before logic got the better of him) was a small stone shrine adorned with a statue of a man holding some form of bladed weapon. The weapon was indistinct, clearly still being sculpted. The man's face was fairly well sculpted and looked realistic, though Mikleo had never seen anyone who looked like him before.

“I've been working on this all this time. I'm not much of an artist, but I remember exactly what he looked like, and I have been trying to get it right. I think it's a fair likeness of him.” Edna put her hand on the statue. “Eizen loved this particular spot, he always said the view was the best here, so I felt it best if his likeness could stand here forever, watching over the world.”

Bowing his head in respect to the likeness of a seraph he'd never truly met (it didn't really count if you met the hellionized or draconic version of a seraph), Mikleo offered his silent prayers to Edna's brother. Beside him, Sorey did the same. Edna just watched them silently, waiting for them to finish.

Once they were done, the two of them stepped back and watched Zaveid as he approached the shrine. To everyone's surprise, he reached into his trouser pocket and withdrew a small, flat metal object. It took Mikleo a long moment to realize it was a liquor flask. Then the seraph began unscrewing the lid, and he up-ended it over the base of the shrine. “I found that brandy you liked so much, Eizen. Brought it all the way here for you. Hope you enjoy it. It cost me a pretty coin.”

While the liquid splattered quietly at the foot of the statue, no one spoke. It wasn't until Zaveid had capped the flask and returned it to his pocket, turning away from the statue to face his fellow seraphim with the same easy-going smile he always had, that anyone had the words to speak.

“Were you good friends with Eizen?” That was Sorey, and his open curiosity and honest demeanor softened the blow of the words. Of course Sorey didn't know about Zaveid's connection with Eizen; he hadn't even been around when Zaveid opened up a little about his background with Edna's beloved brother. There were few specific questions answered beyond the fact that Zaveid considered Eizen to be one of the best friends he ever had (and Mikleo had gotten a distinct sense of propinquity when Zaveid said that; it almost felt like Zaveid was describing someone who was as dear to him as Sorey was to Mikleo...) but what he had revealed had been enough. The other seraphim had understood that the bond between Zaveid and Eizen had been strong. Suffice to say, Zaveid had very good reason to want to pay his respects to Eizen's memorial shrine.

Zaveid just grinned at Sorey's innocent question; “Yes, Eizen and me go way back. We traveled together for a time. I tried to convince him once to let me marry his little sister.”

“Let me guess: He punched you out for it?” Sorey returned the easy grin.

“No, actually, he told me he'd give me his blessings, but I had to win Edna's hand myself, he wasn't going to just give her to me. Told me it was her business who she married, not his. Needless to say, she wasn't on board with it. So _she_ punched me out. Eizen just stood there and laughed his head off over it.”

After they had shared a laugh for far too long over it (a decidedly awkward laugh, really; it was clearly meant to distract from the obvious grief in Zaveid's eyes), the four seraphim headed back down the slopes to a small cave entrance, which was where Edna lived. While the three of them waited, she brewed up a pot of tea to share with them and served it out of small earthen mugs.

“Where are you headed from here?” She asked bluntly as they sipped at the tea.

“We are going to Ladylake, to see Lailah. After that, I thought maybe we could journey to Rose's grave, to pay our respects. Sorey needs to find himself again, and I thought that would be a good place to start.”

Zaveid set aside his mug after consuming as much of the tea as he seemed interested in (Mikleo recalled that the wind seraph wasn't a fan of hot drinks as a rule anyway) and grinned; “Would you like to come with us? It'll be a grand reunion for old time's sake!”

“If you hadn't offered, Grampveid,” she said sharply, “I might have considered it. But honestly, I can't really leave here, so even if you hadn't offered, I wouldn't really be able to. My vessel isn't portable, and without a Shepherd's contract, I don't have the energy to change that. I like my current vessel where it is. I guess I'll have to ask you to convey my regards to Lailah for me.”

“Does malevolence reach you here, on the Spiritcrest?” Sorey inquired. He seemed genuinely concerned. “If it's not portable, you can't leave if malevolence invades your home.”

“I'm not worried,” she said frankly. “There's a reason it's called a Spiritcrest. Besides, malevolence really needs humans to spread it, and humans can't get here. The climb is too steep, and I wouldn't let humans anywhere near here even if it wasn't too steep for them. You don't need to worry about me. When you're finished, I'm going to head back to my rounds. I'd offer you overnight hospitality, but Grampveid will read too much into that, so you best be on your way.”

 

* * *

 

The entire way down the mountainside, Sorey was silent and looked troubled. The youngest of the traveling seraphim kept trying to ask something and then stopping himself before the question actually emerged. It looked like he wasn't sure how to word his question, or if his question was even appropriate

Then, as their footfalls started to crunch in the gravel as they reached the talus slope at the very foot of the mountain, he sighed and looked up at the mountainside. His posture was of reluctance.

“She wasn't kidding,” Zaveid said kindly. “You don't need to worry about her. She's a very strong woman with a constitution as pure as the earth itself. There really isn't enough malevolence in Glenwood now to hellionize a stationary seraph as powerful as she is, anyway. So long as she stays close to her vessel, she's safe. Malevolence powerful enough to overpower her would be purified by Maotelus now.”

“You're sure she's okay? I can't help it; I feel like I should have insisted on her coming with us.”

_There it is._ Mikleo felt his heart lift. He'd been waiting to see if that protective side of Sorey would emerge. It proved that while Sorey didn't remember details of being a Shepherd, he was still the protective, responsible and kind Sorey that Mikleo had always known and loved.

Zaveid shook his head at the suggestion; “You would have put her at greater risk by doing so. She has a vessel that she relies on – putting physical distance between her and her vessel is risky, especially if you take her into a heavily populated place like Ladylake. She mentioned that malevolence needs humans to spread, and she's right up to a point: places of dense population are natural breeding grounds for malevolence.” The wind seraph hooked his thumbs into his belt as he gave the youngest seraph an appraising look. “Human suffering is the biggest factor in the spread of malevolence, and densely populated areas have enough poverty that suffering is there in perpetuity. That's just the way of the world. No Shepherd can change that, unfortunately.”

Mikleo interjected before the wrong idea could be derived from what Zaveid had said; “They're not crucibles of malevolence like Heldalf used, if you're wondering, Sorey. Malevolence is unfortunately a natural and perpetual force of the world. You can't eradicate it entirely, but you can keep it to a manageable level.”

“Crucibles?” Sorey tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

Zaveid frowned; “Heldalf had custom-made crucibles that generated and amplified malevolence, to spread his influence. We had to conquer and purify those in order to weaken him and take him down.” (There was a moment where the seraph very clearly almost said “Don't you remember that?” before he caught himself.)

“So those don't exist anymore? We don't have to take care of them?”

Zaveid's frown deepened. “If they did exist, we would not go anywhere near them. You're not a Shepherd anymore, Sorey. You're a seraph like us. You can't purify malevolence. When we were fighting the Lord of Calamity, there were times when you were the only barrier between us seraphim and the malevolence around us. But you're not a Shepherd anymore; you're just as vulnerable as Mik-boy there is. Actually... Don't take this the wrong way, but you're probably the most vulnerable of all of us. You're still a newborn seraph; you don't have any natural defenses beyond a shaky bond to a vessel that was created in haste.”

“I like how you act like you're invulnerable,” Mikleo said tartly, hoping to diffuse the situation before his two companions got into an argument (even though Zaveid was, infuriatingly, absolutely right on this topic.) “You don't even have a vessel. You act like your age is enough to protect you from malevolence.”

“Ha!” Zaveid threw his head back and laughed arrogantly. “The wind itself is my vessel!”

“Oh, _bullshit_!” Mikleo scowled and clenched a fist in frustration. “That's a complete and utter lie. How the hell are you not a dragon by now, if that were true?”

The wind seraph guffawed heartily at his outrage. Even Sorey grinned and did his best to hide his amusement (since it really wasn't all that funny to suggest the possibility of Zaveid becoming a dragon).

“Not every seraph needs a vessel for purity, Mik-boy. And even if that were true, you don't know anything about me. You have no idea what I could or would use as a vessel on my own. You only know about me through the Shepherd's pact we shared three centuries ago.” Then, for a moment, his eyes became narrow, pinned, and his voice became grave. “Don't mistake your limited knowledge for absolute truth, Mikleo.”

Then, just like that, the serious expression vanished, replaced by a mirthful, mocking grin.

“We've got a fair distance to go yet until we reach Ladylake. Shall we get a move on? Dillydallying here won't help anyone.”

 

* * *

 

Sorey was visibly intimidated when they arrived at the long bridge leading into Ladylake. The city gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight above its great walls, and the number of people traversing the bridge, headed into the city, was impressive.

“Something wrong, Sorey?” Zaveid paused at the entrance to the bridge, noting that Sorey was balking.

“I... I can't explain it. I suddenly feel very, very sad.”

Mikleo could hardly contain his nervous excitement. Was Sorey starting to remember his Shepherd journey?

They waited in silence for several minutes before Sorey finally decided he was ready to proceed. The young seraph offered no explanation, and the other two decided not to pressure him. Instead, at Zaveid's entreaty, they began the walk across the bridge.

About halfway across the bridge, Sorey stopped again, went to the side of it, and looked down over the railing at the water.

“Mikleo, can you walk on water?”

“Er, where did this question come from?” Mikleo raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“I was just wondering. There's so much water here and it looks so deep. Those rivers and streams we crossed were nothing compared to this! So, can you?”

“If the surface is absolutely still, yes. I can't walk across a river because the water's actually moving, and I can't walk upright on that.” That was actually a bald-faced lie – he could walk on water that was in motion, so long as it wasn't violently surging and roiling – and he almost felt bad for saying it, but he didn't like to talk about that ability. It took a _lot_ of concentration to keep himself steady on the surface of a still pond or lake, and even more to do so on a river or stream. He'd never attempted on the ocean, where the water was constantly in motion but the motion was rollicking. That was supposed to be the mark of a truly ascended seraph – being able to walk on the surface of the ocean.

Sorey turned a little and looked at Zaveid; “Can you fly? Like a bird?”

“Not like a bird, no. Do I look like I have wings? But I can do some gravity-defying things, yes. Why are you so interested in that?”

“I just...” Sorey's expression clouded. “I don't feel very special. I can't even use lightning, or wind, or water, or fire. I haven't even tried to use Earth. I can't really do much of anything. I feel like I'm no different from these humans around us, except they can't see me.” He held his arm out into the way of one of the merchants crossing the bridge. The man passed right by them, clearly not seeing three seraphim standing there. Only the mule drawing his wagon reacted to the seraphim's presence, jerking its head out of the way of Sorey's arm. (Animals could sense or even see seraphim, but humans often could not.)

“You're still young as a seraph,” Zaveid said wisely. “You need time and some training. And you need space to do that training, which you've not had since you joined us.”

Sorey looked skeptical, but then he smiled faintly; “You're right, I'm being very silly, comparing myself to seraphim like you. Let's go visit Lailah. Maybe she can give me some idea of where I should go.”

Leaving the railing, Sorey joined his friends in the throng heading into Ladylake's bridge gate, threading amongst the populace out of habit (you never knew when you were going to encounter someone with enough resonance to notice what you were doing and get upset). Once they were inside the city's walls, they deferred to Zaveid to lead them to the Great Sanctuary of the Sacred Blade, which was where Lailah's sword vessel was enshrined. It was a fair bit of a walk, but they were in no hurry and as they got closer, the crowds thinned out. The shrine was in a location that was no longer heavily trafficked, it seemed. Mikleo could have sworn he remembered this place being busier the last time he'd come here, but that _had_ been a fair few decades ago. Even centuries, if he was honest.

He was looking forward to this visit, though; there was no denying that. He hadn't visited Lailah in a very, very long time, and he was actually somewhat regretting that they'd strayed so far apart. But he had gotten so caught up in his ruins spelunking while waiting for Sorey to be released from Maotelus's purification, that he really had put it off. It was something of a shame; Lailah was a particular favorite of his. Of all the seraphim he had met outside of Elysia, she was the one he liked the best. Even though she had a knack for telling the most appalling jokes (because she was often alone and so she occupied herself with coming up with jokes and puns, and had no one there to tell her just how awful the jokes really were), Mikleo found he had a special place in his heart for her.

This was in part because of how she had helped him through the darkest time of his life. Three hundred years ago, in the days and weeks following the cataclysmic showdown with Heldalf, Mikleo had struggled to come to grips with his losses. Truthfully, all of them had, but for Mikleo, who was still a child in comparison to his fellow seraphim, it had been more potent. His father figure Zenrus was dead by Heldalf's hand. His best friend (and soulmate) Sorey was gone, fused with Maotelus and in a deep, deep slumber, unreachable. There had also been a deep-seated fear (one he never truly got over until it was proven to be unfounded when they learned that Sorey had indeed awakened) that Sorey would never awaken, that he would simply combine with Maotelus and cease to exist on his own. For several weeks after losing Sorey (and lamenting that he'd never taken the chance to confess his deep affections to his soulmate), Mikleo had struggled to maintain hope that he would ever see the love of his life again. Even surrounded by companions and bound to a new Shepherd, he still despaired.

With little to no closure and with hope a fading glimmer, Mikleo had found himself succumbing to his grief. He had felt like he was drowning in despair, barely treading water to keep his head above the pain. But his pride had prevented him from admitting to his fellow Sub Lords just how much he suffered; he didn't want Zaveid to make light of his pain, and he didn't want Edna's tough love (especially knowing as he did that Edna was suffering in her own way, after losing her beloved brother). Rose had been too new at being a Shepherd to understand the nuances of her seraphim and their emotions, so she had been easy to fool (he hadn't wanted her to worry about him anyway). He had suffered in silence for days, even sometimes silently crying himself to sleep (which he had been ashamed of), before Lailah intervened.

Lailah, the humble and gentle Prime Lord, had comforted him in the depths of his grief. She had offered no judgment, no rebuke, no humiliation. Instead, she had offered sympathy, serenity, understanding and a shoulder to cry on. She had eased the pain of his loss without ever making him feel as though he were weak for grieving. She helped him back up onto his feet, in a manner of speaking. By the time Rose had to begin her Shepherd duties in earnest, in Sorey's stead, Mikleo had largely overcome his grief and was ready to accept his new Shepherd wholeheartedly.

It was because of Lailah that Mikleo had spent the past several hundred years chasing down the secret of purification. Now he only needed a Shepherd to bind to and he would (probably?) be able to purify hellions.

“Here we go,” Zaveid said triumphantly as they arrived at the stone church built to enshrine a divine blade. The building looked like it was in a growing state of disrepair. Vines and ivy climbed its cracked walls. Two of its windows were broken out. However, it clearly wasn't completely abandoned. The broken windows were high off the ground, probably difficult to get to, and thus difficult to justify the cost of repairing, and the vines and ivy weren't overrunning the place. The cracks in the concrete walls were noticeable, but it still looked structurally sound. The landscaping was neatly trimmed and kept up, and there was a single (clearly bored) guard standing at the gate to the Shrine. Of course, he had no resonance, so he never noticed the three seraphim as they strolled in past him.

Inside the building, the shrine was dimly lit by a series of small candle sconces. They strolled through a long foyer and emerged into the main part of the church itself. There, at the center of it all, was a large stone pedestal with an ornate sword impaled in it. In front of it, on a stone shelf between two sets of broad stairs, lay the dozing form of a female seraph. Mikleo got a sense of deja vu, since this was almost exactly how it had been when he first met her, except that that had happened during a festival, so there had been humans all around at that time. Now she was sleeping on that dais with no one around her.

“Oh man,” Zaveid said, raising his voice conversationally, “it seems we've stumbled upon a Sleeping Beauty. And what a lovely sight for sore eyes!”

The female seraph stirred and sat up, blinking sleepily. “I know that voice. Zaveid, is that you?”

“One and the same, my fiery beauty. Did ya miss me?” The wind seraph held his arms out as if to welcome her into an embrace.

She giggled merrily as she hiked her silken skirts up and got to her feet, stepping daintily over to the stairs, then skimming down the stairs to the main walkway. She almost danced in her eagerness to greet her guests.

“Is that you, Mikleo? My goodness, how you've grown!” She held her arms out to him instead of Zaveid. However, as she drew close enough to put her arms around him, her eyes caught sight of the third male seraph in the room, and she stopped moving abruptly. Her eyes grew very wide and she seemed to stop breathing.

“Hello, Lailah,” Sorey said with a smile.

“Sorey, is that you? Please tell me that you're my Sorey!” She clasped her hands together before her mouth as if in prayer.

“It seems I am. You were my Prime Lord when I was the Shepherd, weren't you?”

“I was!” Her expression flickered only very, very briefly to sorrow as she realized the full situation. She'd been through this multiple times before, so she knew what it meant for Sorey to speak of his Shepherd journey in such a detached way. And for him to appear before her as a seraph, for that matter. “Oh, let me have a look at you, Sorey, please!”

He let her, grinning with delight at her response, as she circled around him and appraised him. Then she clapped her hands excitedly; “Sorey, you've become a splendid seraph! I'm so, so happy to see you! So this means that your task with Maotelus is complete and he is free and pure again?”

“Er, yes, I think so. I met him when I woke up, and he helped me get my bearings. He helped me bind my seraphic nature to a vessel, but he didn't tell me how to do it if I wanted to change vessels... I was hoping maybe you could help me, Lailah?”

_Well, that's quite direct!_ Mikleo thought to himself. _I don't recall Sorey being so.... oh who am I kidding? Sorey can be direct as an arrow when he really wants to be._

“Why would you want to change your vessel? Did it get damaged?” She looked concerned.

“No, I just... have changed my mind.” He looked at Mikleo briefly as if needing the water seraph's support. At Mikleo's nod, Sorey reached into his pack and withdrew Siegfried and the Celestial Record. “This is the item that I chose when Maotelus helped me first bind to a vessel, but it really isn't mine, and I've since gotten this,” he held out the book, “repaired. It was damaged and worn out with age, so I had it rebound. Can you help me?”

She smiled so brightly, Mikleo would have sworn that the entire shrine became brighter (then again, she was a fire seraph and there were candles all around; perhaps in her happiness, she was causing the flames to flare up) and she then reached out and grabbed Sorey's wrist gently: “Come with me to the altar and I'll show you how to do that straight away. It's pretty easy to do, you just have to be careful and keep your focus. Also, it's kind of painful for a few seconds. But it'll be over quickly. Come, let's get that started. It takes a while to adapt to your new vessel, so the sooner we get it done, the sooner you'll be settled. Set your other stuff down; only bring the current vessel and what you want for your new vessel.”

“Okay.”

Sorey removed his pack and set it down on the ground. The young seraph followed her up the steps to the altar behind the pedestal where the sword was. When Mikleo moved to go with them, he was abruptly restrained by Zaveid, who enthusiastically said “Come with me, Mik-boy!” and then dragged him off before he could even decline or resist. They didn't go far, just to the foyer.

“What's the big idea, Zaveid?” Mikleo wrenched his arm away.

“Transferring to a new vessel is a very private thing. You don't need to be involved, Mik-boy. C'mon, let's have a look around the place while they do their little shindig. They'll let us know when they're done.”

 

* * *

 

It didn't take all that long at all for the “shindig” to take place. While Mikleo was admiring a statue of a soldier holding a large spear, he heard Zaveid say something and looked over to see Lailah and Sorey approaching. Sorey looked tired and slightly uncomfortable, but Lailah was all smiles.

As the four gathered together, Sorey held out Siegfried; “Here you go, Zaveid. Thank you for lending it to me.”

The wind seraph took the pistol and stuffed it into his waistband with aplomb. “You're welcome, and thank you for returning it to me.”

Lailah smoothly interjected: “Zaveid, could you do me a favor? Could you take Sorey outside and show him around? I need to talk with Mikleo for a few minutes, alone. This conversation has to be private.”

“I get the feeling you're avoiding me, Lailah,” the wind seraph said as he wagged a finger at her, but then he grinned. “C'mon, Sorey! I hear there are some babes around here we could watch.”

“Babes? Like, small children?”

“Y... ya know what? Nevermind. Let's go look at some trees!”

It was silent in the chapel when the two of them left. Mikleo found himself staring wistfully at the door after the other two had left, and he jumped slightly when Lailah touched his shoulder.

“You've been smiling all day. You didn't even tell Zaveid once to shut up. You must be so very happy, Mikleo.”

Mikleo gave her a radiant smile, which was what she clearly wanted; “The love of my life has returned to me, is in my life again. I feel complete again, Lailah. I hadn't realized just how lonely I really was until he came back to me. How could I be anything but happy?”

She grinned and then spontaneously hugged him. “Have you told him?”

“No,” he said as he pulled away after returning the hug. “And I'm not going to tell him. Not until I'm sure he's ready to hear it.”

Her smile became sadder in an instant; “You were so distraught, because you never got the chance to tell him. Are you sure you're all right with this decision?”

“I think he knew anyway. Lailah, you must know that this isn't exactly the same Sorey. He has no memories of our shared lives together. He only remembers my name and that of Elysia. He doesn't even remember Gramps. I can't burden him with my feelings. Then he'll be forced to think about something he's not ready for. I can't do that to him.”

“So you'll risk him never knowing?”

“It's best for him. Besides, I think he'll come around. I want him to love me on his own, of his own volition and choice. And, now that he's a seraph, we have all the time in the world.”

She smiled brightly and hugged him again; “I'm so happy for you. Promise you'll come visit me regularly while you two are out there in the world, exploring ruins and rediscovering yourselves! Oh, but before you go, let me take you all on a grand tour of Ladylake! Zaveid's only been here in the past couple of centuries, after all. He hasn't been in the rest of the city at all.”

 

* * *

 

For hours they strolled with Lailah through the city, effortlessly threading through the crowds and weaving amongst the throngs. She showed them the markets, the flower gardens, the beautiful fountains, and various palaces and mansions.

As they arrived at the royal palace manse, she happily told them about a little girl who lived here, a distant descendant of the royal family but not a direct princess herself, who sometimes came to the Great Sanctuary and talked with her. A little girl of maybe seven or ten years of age, who had enough resonance to speak with a seraph like Lailah. Her name was Elise and she was a descendant of their friend and Sorey's squire, Alisha Diphda, who was better known as Princess Alisha the Peacemaker. The fire seraph spoke so animatedly that she directed her male companions around without them saying more than a word or two.

“Here we go,” Lailah said as she stopped before a grand portrait set on the landing of a sweeping grand staircase. It was a beautiful wedding portrait. It showed a glorious bride decked out in a splendid white gown, with her groom dressed in the finest wedding attire, and she was attended by many ladies and gentlemen also dressed in sumptuous lace and silk and velvet clothing. All this was expertly conveyed by the artist. But most incredibly, off to the side was a woman with cherry-red hair clipped up in golden clasps, dressed in a modest tunic and trousers, her shoulders adorned with the navy-trimmed white cloak of the Shepherd.

“This is the wedding portrait of Princess Alisha Diphda, the Peacemaker, and her Rolancean husband Sergei Strelka. And this,” she pointed, “as two of you recognize since you were there, and I hope _you_ 'll understand, Sorey, this is Shepherd Rose, your successor.”

Mikleo remembered that day. So very long ago now, but still a clear memory. Alisha and Sergei had been allies of theirs. Princess Alisha Diphda of Hyland had been a squire of Sorey, and then later of Rose, before she found her place as an ambassador and diplomat. Sergei Strelka, a captain of the guard in Rolance, had also found his way into being an ambassador and peacemaker after crossing paths with Sorey and Rose. The two of them had worked so hard to create peace between their warring countries, and when they fell in love, it was celebrated in both countries. Mikleo could, with some difficulty, remember being present when Sergei proposed marriage to Alisha, because Rose had been there as a third party liaison (being the Shepherd, she had no ties to any one country and thus she was considered a good non-partisan overseer of negotiations). The Rolance soldier-turned-ambassador had asked for a recess of their negotiations, pulled Alisha aside (in front of Rose and her four seraphim, though he hadn't realized it at the time) and had popped the question to her. Alisha had been very enthusiastic in accepting. The news of their impending nuptials had been seen as a blessing to both countries.

The wedding had been a huge, grand affair, conducted at a chapel built on the border of both countries. Rose, as the Shepherd, had had a place of honor in the ceremony, bestowing her blessing (and those of her companion seraphim) upon the new couple. Sergei, lacking any resonance, hadn't seen the seraphim present, but had thanked Rose for her support, and Mikleo remembered _feeling_ his gratitude, it had been so profound.

The couple had begun their married life in motion, constantly commuting between Pendrago and Ladylake, before Sergei officially resigned his post and moved in permanently with his wife into a beautiful mansion in Ladylake. Together, they bore three children, though one died in infancy. Their two other children grew up and joined their parents in keeping the peace between the two countries and trying to keep peace throughout Glenwood. Alisha and Sergei lived to ripe old ages, dying of age-related ailments and being buried with honor. Statues were now standing outside the mansion where they'd lived and raised their family, and portraits adorned the various mansions.

Lailah took them through the various houses, showing them the many statues and paintings. Many portraits of the couple and their children and grandchildren adorned the house where they'd lived. The seraphim were able to see how Alisha and Sergei had aged, and how their children grew up. Mikleo had to admit, even in her old age, Alisha had been lovely, and as an old man Sergei had been very dignified.

Afterward, they toured the rest of Ladylake, and when it began to rain, they took refuge in Lailah's sanctuary. She happily offered them overnight hospitality, which they accepted. The four them spent the rainy evening reminiscing about old times and enjoying each other's company. When it became dark outside and dim inside, Zaveid found himself a bench to lounge and sleep on, Sorey and Mikleo each settled against a large pillar, and Lailah returned to the dais to sleep.

Sorey didn't fall asleep right away, as Mikleo found out when he was about to drop off into sleep.

“Are you still awake, Mikleo?”

“Mmmph. What did you need, Sorey?”

“I was wondering, can we go visit Rose's grave? You mentioned doing so. I feel like I need to see it for myself.”

“I was planning on going there. I feel like it's the next step. But for now, go to sleep, Sorey.”

After a few moments of silence, it came; “Mikleo?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“Go to sleep, Sorey,” he repeated, but affectionately this time.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, the rain had gotten worse, turning from a downfall into a torrential downpour. The sound of rainfall was soothing to Mikleo, who was slow to rouse from his slumber, and only got up because Sorey wouldn't leave him alone; the lightning seraph was excited because Lailah's young friend Elise was visiting.

Sorey was eager to meet the young girl, who was a little older than Mikleo expected from the description, but was clearly too young to be considered a teenager. She was probably ten or eleven years old and very cute, a striking similarity to the Alisha he remembered. She was standing by the sword pedestal holding a basket and talking excitedly with Lailah. When she saw the others enter, she looked even more excited.

“You do have visitors, Lailah! Wow! Who are these?” She bowed respectfully to them and then offered Zaveid her basket. “Would you like a cream pastry, sir? My mama made them but they came out less than perfect, not sellable, so she told me I could share them with my friends.”

Zaveid graciously took a small one and gestured to his other seraph friends; “I'm sure my friends here would like one as well. Do you mind?”

“I don't mind at all! I can't eat them all myself, after all!”

Lailah was clapping her hands in excitement; “So you can see them, Elise? These are fellow seraphim, old friends of mine. This is Zaveid, a wind seraph; and these are Mikleo, a water seraph, and Sorey, a lightning seraph.”

“Were these your Sub Lords?”

“They were at one time, yes,” Lailah said calmly, “but it's been a very long time since I worked with any of them. Why, I've barely even seen Mikleo or Sorey in hundreds of years!”

As the four of them partook of the pastries brought by the girl, the girl herself chattered at them excitedly. Apparently Glenwood's current Shepherd was getting old and had requested that Ladylake resume its Sacred Sword Festival soon, in hopes of finding a new successor for him. Elise was convinced that she would become the new Shepherd, that no one would be able to draw the sword but her. While they waited out the driving rain, they listened as Elise talked animatedly about how much she wanted to meet the current Shepherd – his name was Gregory, it seemed – and ask him about being a Shepherd, so she'd be prepared. When Zaveid asked her why she didn't just ask Lailah about what a Shepherd's life was like, the girl grinned.

“She won't answer my questions. She just starts cracking really bad jokes.I gave up asking her because of that. Can you tell me about it?”

“I've only served two Shepherds,” Zaveid said with a shake of his head, “and the first one took me in because he kind of didn't have much choice. He'd lost his previous wind seraph to the Lord of Calamity's machinations, so I joined them because I was similar enough that I could take the place of the fallen seraph. Then when he passed his mantle to his successor, I felt it only proper to honor his last will. However, after that, I wanted to go my own way. I don't intend to be anyone's Sub Lord ever again.”

(Mikleo felt like his world had almost dropped out from under him. Hadn't they agreed not to tell Sorey about Dezel? Why was he dropping dragon-sized hints here and now? Sorey was guaranteed to get upset now!)

“If you wish to become a Shepherd, little girl, you will have to learn that seraphim aren't your subordinates or your weapons. They are your allies and your power. Seraphim are highly intelligent. You will have to earn their trust if you want them to serve you. And you will have to retain that trust if you wish for them to stay with you.”

“I think that's more than enough,” Lailah said firmly. “Sorey, Mikleo, didn't you say you were eager to visit Princess Alisha's tomb? Or did you change your mind?”

Since neither of them had said that, it took Mikleo aback a little bit. They had spent yesterday strolling down memory lane with regards to Alisha, seeing many portraits and statues made of her; visiting her tomb and paying respects to her mortal remains seemed less important after celebrating her life so much. But it was clear that Lailah was eager to change the subject.

“I don't need to see any dusty old mausoleum,” Zaveid said tartly. “You know I don't like being underground. I don't even like being indoors for very long.” He looked toward the windows and frowned at the rain.

Sorey looked torn. (Also, there was a peculiar Look on his face that told Mikleo that he was in for some Questions later. It made the water seraph want to kick Zaveid somewhere tender for abruptly dropping the bombshell of the story of Dezel on them all like that.) “I think I would rather go see Shepherd Rose's grave. I've paid my respects to Alisha the Peacemaker, and I'm eager to be away from here. I don't know why but this place makes me feel sad.” He looked over at the windows as well, observing the rain. “It's been nice to see you again, Lailah, and I promise to not stay away as long as I have, but I think Zaveid, Mikleo and I should be on our way.”

Lailah nodded and then turned to Elise; “There are some books in the library in the back. There's one called the Celestial Record that will answer a lot of your questions. The version you're looking for has a brown leather binding and bronze clasp. The ones with orange binding or silver clasps are not the right version. Go find it, and have a read through it, and I will answer your questions, if they are answerable by me. Go ahead, my dear.”

“Really?” The girl's face lit up, and at Lailah's solemn nod, she set her basket down and dashed through the sanctuary.

“That should keep her busy for a little while.” The fire seraph turned to Sorey. “Before you ask, Sorey, there is a story your friends need to tell you about, that I told them not to tell you, because I didn't want you to blame yourself. I was wrong, and I'm sorry. The tragedy of Wind Seraph Dezel still brings tears to my eyes when I think about it, and I didn't want you burdened with that pain, but I think Zaveid is right that you need to know, even if it hurts. Please forgive me for asking everyone to hide it from you.” She bowed before Sorey in submission.

_Lailah, you don't have to lie to cover for us being too chicken to tell him about Dezel. And for the love of Maotelus, don't give Zaveid credit for doing the right thing!_ Mikleo cringed at the look on Sorey's face. His dear friend was expressing a mixture of a number of feelings: anger, disappointment, apprehension and mild confusion. What hurt most was the disappointment, of course.

“Tell me about this wind seraph I had, who died. I must have failed him, if he died.”

“You failed no one, Sorey,” Zaveid said frostily. “Dezel _broke_ his pact with you and Lailah. He was driven by vengeance and he got himself into trouble with Heldalf. It is _his fault_ he died. Lailah and the others argue with me even now about that, saying Dezel was manipulated, but I say it was still his fault. He was blinded by his rage and he threw himself into a trap. However, his dying left you without a Wind Armatus, and I felt I could help you out.”

He looked sharply at Mikleo, and then at Lailah. “You two remember, don't you? I was pretty clear about my intentions from the outset. That's why I tailed you guys so long. You were leading me in the direction I wanted to go, and you had the power to punch through the vanguard. But when you lost Dezel, that's when I decided it was time I stopped picking up scraps and started doing the heavy lifting.”

“What he's saying,” Lailah said softly, looking at Sorey, “is that you were not to blame. You still blamed yourself, and the rest of us blamed ourselves for not stopping Dezel, but you were absolutely _not_ to blame. Zaveid has it mostly right that Dezel threw himself into a trap and he broke his pact with me, so I couldn't stop him. As to him causing his own death, that's a little harsh, since he didn't mean for it to happen.”

“I think we should get going,” Mikleo said. “The rain is letting up, and we can talk about this on the way. That girl won't be long back there, after all. I don't think we want her finding out who Sorey really is.”

“I'm going to stay here in Hyland for a little bit,” Zaveid said. “I'll catch up to you two at Rose's grave.”

_What?! You're not going to help me, you jackass?!_ Mikleo almost came out and said it aloud, but the intense look on Sorey's face kept him from doing so. Instead, they gathered up their packs, distributed Mikleo's canteens (since Sorey still didn't let him carry them all anymore; he insisted on carrying some) and then bid goodbye to Lailah and Zaveid, promising the fire seraph that they'd come by in a while to say hello again.

Then, with the rain still drenching the city of Ladylake, they departed. Sorey seemed to not care so much about the rain now. Mikleo had never minded rain (what water seraph did?) so he just strolled through it without care.

“Tell me,” Sorey said as they moved a bit more slowly than before, toward the gate that would take them back across that great bridge and to the mainland. “Tell me what happened to Dezel. I want the whole story, Mikleo. Don't water it down because you think I can't handle it.”

Mikleo decided to make one single last-ditch effort to not confront this story now, alone, without backup. (He wanted Zaveid to help him with this exposition, the jackass.) If this failed, he would surrender and do as Sorey demanded. He also fully expected this to fail miserably; Sorey was sharp-minded and very intelligent. His affable nature and endless smile was only a facade for how serious and intuitive he really was.

“Did it ever occur to you,” he said slowly, injecting as much artificial pain as he could into his voice, “that maybe I don't want to talk about it because it still hurts me?”

For a moment, he thought it might actually work, as Sorey seemed to contemplate this. But then he shook his head; “I can understand that, I suppose, but... Imagine how I feel. You told me all sorts of stories about the things we did together as Shepherd and seraphim, and... and yet there's no way for me to grieve for someone who died in service to me, because I remember nothing about it. Don't you think I ought to know the truth? If only so I can face forward and pay tribute to a friend I have forgotten.” He sounded so resigned, almost like he was trying to not show emotion, that it made Mikleo feel ashamed for trying to manipulate him with false emotion. “Even if it hurts, Mikleo, please, I'm begging you: tell me about it. If he was my Sub Lord, he deserves to be remembered by the Shepherd he died serving. Let me feel it too.”

Then the water seraph felt a belated but sudden wave of guilt and shame crash over him. How could he claim to love Sorey, and yet completely ignore how much pain he must be in right now, to hear of all these people he'd helped and known, who had since passed on, and he wasn't even able to mourn them properly because he had no memories of them?

_What if that were me that forgot about everyone he loved? How could I handle knowing that I'd forgotten everything important to me?_

“You're right, Sorey, and I'm sorry for not considering what you're going through. I guess it's easy for me to forget that you're struggling too. I'll do better going forward.” He shrugged awkwardly. “You win, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just... give me some time to collect my thoughts, please?”

“Take all the time you need, just please tell me when you're ready.”

 

* * *

 

The journey out of Ladylake, across the bridge and out across Hyland, was a long and emotional one for both of them. Mikleo found that recalling the whole story about Dezel in detail really was as excruciating as he'd tried to claim it would be. (He still wasn't about to tell Sorey that he'd been trying to manipulate him to get out of the story... the fact that it turned out to be as hard as he'd said it was, was actually coincidence, but he wasn't about to admit that just yet! There were some things you kept to yourself.)

He found, unpleasantly, that he still ached for his former companion's tragedy and loss, that even knowing that Dezel found peace at the very end, it was still a traumatic ordeal. There were emotions there, buried under centuries of neglect, that Mikleo had never come to terms with. (Mourning a fallen companion was one thing; coming to terms with the ramifications of his death was another.) After Dezel's death, Mikleo had quickly shut it all away, with an attitude of “Deal with it later” and then... he just never got around to doing that. After the cataclysmic showdown with the Lord of Calamity, the soul-wrenching pain of watching Zenrus suffer in Heldalf's clutches, and the subsequent grieving Mikleo had done for both Zenrus and Sorey (for different reasons), he'd simply never had it in him to open that time capsule of Dezel and relive that agony.

He found himself occasionally lost in thought, trying to wonder how he himself would have behaved had he been in Dezel's place, to have his best friend murdered and his companions slaughtered like vermin, and he thoroughly despised the conclusions he found himself drawing. The way he thought he'd respond to tragedy on the scale that Dezel had endured, he found, was indicative of a dark side to himself that he didn't like. It also made him appreciate (and grieve for, just a little bit) the love and care that Zenrus had given him as a foundation while growing up, because he was able to explore these thoughts without actually enduring something of its like.

Sorey seemed to sense that he was in pain talking about it, because he was careful when asking for details, and he seemed to also share in Mikleo's dolor (though in a very different way, since he remembered nothing, so he was empathizing by proxy, in that regard). It eased the pain of the whole process, and gave him someone to lean on when it was at its worst. (Honestly, it just made him love Sorey that much more.)

Things got weird, though, once they had finished discussing Dezel and the Windriders. Mikleo assumed that Sorey would start asking about Rose again, since Rose was how they had come to know Dezel. But instead, his companion surprised him.

“Tell me about Eizen, the seraph we paid tribute to on Rayfalke. Edna's brother, right?”

Mikleo stopped walking, looking at Sorey in confusion; “Sorey, please understand that I'm not hiding anything here; I legitimately don't know jack squat about Eizen. All I can tell you is that he was Edna's brother, he became a dragon a long time ago, and you and Edna tried to find a way to save him, to cure his draconic transformation, but in the end, the only thing we could do to end Eizen's suffering was to kill him. I'm sorry, Sorey, but that's _all_ that I know about him. If you want to know more about him, you have to ask Edna or Zaveid. And good luck getting anything out of either of them.”

“Can you at least describe him to me, then?”

“The Eizen that I saw was a huge black flying dragon. What more do I need to say? Dragons are disgusting!” He put his hands on his hips. “If you're trying to ask me what he looked like before he was a dragon, that's what Edna's statue is for. I don't know because I never saw him as anything but a dragon.”

“Then tell me about our battle with him.”

Mikleo was really trying to be reasonable, but this was getting ludicrous; “Sorey, of all the battles we engaged in as Shepherd and seraphim, all the hellions we quelled, and even the Lord of Calamity himself, you want me to describe to you _that_ fight? Why?”

“Because it was against Edna's brother. Don't I owe it to her, and to him, to know how it happened? I don't remember any of it.”

“That is no way to commemorate Eizen. Come on, Sorey, dragons are an abomination. Eizen deserves better than to be remembered as one! Edna and Zaveid seem content to carry the burden of his memory on their own. _Please_ stop trying to carry the weight of memories of people you never actually met!”

Outmaneuvered thus, Sorey surrendered; “You're right. I'm being stupid, aren't I?”

“Very stupid. I've had enough of these depressing conversations. I'd like some peace from them for a bit, if you don't mind.” He looked skyward at the dark gray clouds unloading precipitation over them at that moment. “Now, it's raining hard enough. Don't you think you should start practicing your lighting artes? You've been very lax at doing that this whole way, even though it's been raining like a mythical flood!”

Sorey stuck his tongue out at him and then coiled up some power to begin practicing.

 

* * *

 

By the time they reached the edge of Camlann, where Rose was interred in a custom grave, they had gotten through discussing all the most distressing and unpleasant stuff and Mikleo was mostly regaling his companion with stories of their youth in Elysia. Sorey practiced handling lightning every chance he got, practicing with bigger and louder lightning during rainstorms (because people were less likely to be frightened by thunder heard during a rainstorm than by thunder on a clear day, for obvious reasons) and then smaller, hand-held spells when it wasn't rainy.

They had fallen into a cadence together that was achingly familiar to Mikleo, one he had missed and craved for centuries. He felt so utterly at ease now with Sorey at his side, but he had to remind himself to not become too comfortable. Sorey had hesitantly reminded him that he still wanted to go his own way eventually, to find his own answers and path.

As they climbed the hill toward the grave site, Sorey was testing out some new artes he had developed that enabled him to use lightning and magnetism to levitate (only a matter of centimeters above the ground, and only for very short distances, mostly coasting on momentum, but still, it was impressive improvement considering how young he was as a seraph) so he wasn't paying attention to their atmosphere and surroundings, but Mikleo was. The place felt calm and serene, and very still, as they climbed the hillside.

There was something distinctly lacking about this place right now. Something they had both been expecting to be here, wasn't here.

Zaveid was nowhere around.

The two of them had devised a prank they were planning to play on the wind seraph, as payback for him dropping the bombshell of Dezel's story on them and then buggering off to leave Mikleo to handle the whole thing himself.

They were planning to convince the wind seraph that Mikleo was hopping furious with him and wanted to beat his face in. Sorey would offer to restrain Zaveid while Mikleo pounded the wind seraph's face concave. It was all in good fun, they wouldn't _actually_ beat him up, and Mikleo assured Sorey that Zaveid had enough of a sense of humor that once he was sure that they weren't actually violently angry with him, he would laugh alongside them, and would likely apologize for upsetting them too.

But he wasn't here. He'd said he would meet them at the grave, but they were the only seraphim here. The air was still and the area was quiet. Even the rain had stopped.

Once he became aware of the anomaly, Sorey started to worry. Mikleo was annoyed (and a little disappointed; he'd been looking forward to getting a little revenge on Grampveid, after all!) but he wasn't worried. Zaveid was flighty sometimes when he could afford to be (but, Mikleo grudgingly acknowledged, the wind seraph was utterly reliable when he was actually needed), and sometimes he just liked to be on his own, it seemed.

Sorey insisted on staying for several days at the grave site, and Mikleo caught him multiple times (at least once each day) paying quiet tribute in front of the grave, kneeling with his hands clasped together as if in prayer. It was a gesture he'd picked up from watching humans praying at roadside shrines. He decided to leave Sorey alone and let him do as he wished; it was pointless to chide him for something so harmless. Sorey would either learn that his action was silly, a human imitation, and discontinue it, or else he would decide that it was befitting someone who was once human.

Mikleo of course paid tribute at Rose's grave too, a few times. Her name was worn away by the erosive power of nature, but the headstone was still solidly in place. Edna had anchored it into the ground with earth-based seraphic artes, and together the four seraphim who had served her had woven a shield to protect the headstone from human desecration. The spell still held and would do so in perpetuity, so long as at least one of the seraphim who had woven it still lived to maintain it.

The two of them talked a lot about Rose in the time they spent here, recalling the journey Shepherd Sorey and Squire Rose had undertaken, and Mikleo also talked about the journey he and the other seraphim had with Rose after she became the Shepherd.

After a few days of loitering and waiting for Zaveid to show, Mikleo convinced Sorey to ease up his worry enough for the two of them to leave and go to Elysia. Sorey was still reluctant to leave entirely, convinced that Zaveid would show up sooner or later, but with some coaxing (that got a little verbally rough at one point, as Mikleo had to remind him that he was again being stupid and trying to take on burdens he didn't need to), he finally relented and they left. Sorey fashioned a small bundle of wildflowers to leave on the grave before they left, as an offering to Rose (again, something he'd picked up from watching humans at seraphic shrines, but the gesture was really sweet, so Mikleo didn't even consider calling him on it) before bidding farewell.

As they were leaving, they encountered a small blue creature scurrying around near the gate. It was a normin, and it was apparently gathering herbs. It stopped and greeted them when it saw them, introducing itself as Diadem, a servant of the Lord of the Land of Aroundight Forest.

“Where are you two headed?” It asked pleasantly once introductions were out of the way. “Elysia, huh? That's right nearby! Be careful. There have been some weird creatures coming out of the Mabinogio ruins lately. They don't seem to be hellions, but they're very aggressive. I suppose you're a lot bigger so you're not in as much danger, but still, be careful.”

Mikleo thanked the little normin graciously and turned to go, but Sorey wasn't quite done.

“Excuse me, but do you know a wind seraph by the name of Zaveid?”

“I recognize the name.” It tilted its cute little head. “Is he the one with the funny hat and the really long hair? Runs around half naked?”

“Yes. Have you seen him recently? We were expecting to meet him here, and he never showed up.”

“I haven't seen him for a while, but there was a powerful wind seraph who came through here about two weeks ago. I felt his presence. Might have been your friend. He didn't stay long. Wind seraphim almost never do.”

Sorey seemed to visibly relax at the hint that Zaveid had already come and gone, and was thus just fine. “Okay. Thank you, Diadem. You've put my mind at ease.”

“I did? Well, glad to be of service! Take care as you go!”

 

* * *

 

The journey through Mabinogio was nostalgic for Mikleo, who knew these ruins very well by now, and Sorey clearly enjoyed them. The so-called “weird creatures” that Diadem had spoken about either no longer were active, or were in fact just some large rats that hissed at the two seraphim and then scurried away. (Perhaps they were more aggressive with tiny normin than with human-sized seraphim?) In any case, the two seraphim enjoyed their time traveling through the ruins to emerge at the gate of Elysia.

“Welcome home, Sorey,” Mikleo said warmly as they passed the boundary into their old childhood home. The place was very sparse, looked mostly deserted now, but it felt like the home Mikleo had always cherished. He could feel the blessing of the local Lord of the Land, Dorado, and the air was so clean and sweet.

“So this is Elysia...” Sorey's jaw was unhinged and he was looking around himself with absolute wonder. “I never imagined it was so beautiful. Are we going to stay here a while?”

“Well, I am.” Mikleo shifted his packs and looked over at the overgrown remains of what had once been Sorey's house here. The place would still be clean and tidy inside, if Dorado's wife was still maintaining the place, but it _looked_ like a lichen-covered boulder now. That house had served as a place for Mikleo to stay and rest whenever he came here (his own house was long since gone, destroyed by the earthquakes that had shaken this place as the Age of Chaos ended). He was actually looking forward to settling down and staying here for a while, resting up and getting some writing done. He had a lot of research notes to compile about the ruins he'd visited, after all. He'd been putting this off long enough, it was time to get some work done.

Sorey looked confused. “You make it sound like we're going to part here.”

This was a difficult conversation he was forcing them to have, but it was one they had to have.

“I suppose that's because we are. You've gotten your bearings a bit, haven't you? That was what you wanted – to travel with me until you got your feet under you and had an idea of where you are and where you're going. And you said you need to journey by yourself for a while, to find yourself. I thought maybe this would be a good place for us to part ways. I'll stay here for a while and work on my research notes and get some much needed rest. You do your exploring and when you're done, you can come back here. Elysia is as much your home as it is mine, so go out there and do your exploring, and when you've had enough of being alone, come back home. I'll be waiting for you.”

The sad look on Sorey's face cut him to the quick. “Is that what you want?”

“You need your space, and I have work to do that's appallingly boring but needs to be done. I think now is the best time for us to go our separate ways.” _Even if it feels like I just found you again yesterday._ He put on his best smile. “I'll be here, waiting for you, when you get lonely.”

Sorey looked around, his expression still sad; “Can I stay here a while to think about this?”

“You're welcome to stay as long as you like. Decide what you want to do and where you want to go. But _I'm_ staying here for a while.”

By now Dorado and his wife Elsie were coming over to greet them. The four seraphim exchanged enthusiastic greetings – especially when the couple learned who Sorey really was – and soon the two resident shrinekeepers had Sorey so preoccupied that Mikleo was able to slip away and stash his belongings in the house. Then he took Sorey on a tour of Elysia, showing him the various sights and wonders of what remained. Sorey in particular loved the viewpoint vista that overlooked the cloud layer. There was a moment of haunting familiarity as they stood side by side at this point, looking out at the clouds. Mikleo could hear Sorey's voice from three centuries in the past, murmuring “Isn't there something you wanted to say?”

_Not today. Not now. Let him find himself and come back to me on his own terms, and then maybe I'll finally have the courage to say it._

Then, the two of them retired to the house, where Sorey curled up in a bedroll while Mikleo set about getting ready to begin the massive undertaking of compiling his research notes and writing out his conclusions. He was hoping someday to have some of his research added to the Celestial Record, after all.

Lighting a candle so he could see what he was doing, he set to his work.

 

* * *

 

Ultimately, Sorey stayed with him in Elysia for about a month before he grew restless and ventured off to begin his solitary expedition. In that time, he had practiced his lightning artes to reach a decent level of proficiency. They parted amicably and Sorey seemed eager to begin his exploring. He didn't say where he was going to go, only that he wouldn't be too far away.

During the brief time that Sorey was there in Elysia, three new seraphim came there to establish homes. They were all young seraphim, still learning the ways of their world, and Elysia was a refuge to them, a place to be safe and learn how to be a good seraph without being at risk of malevolence. It seemed as though maybe Elysia was going to make a comeback as a thriving seraph village after all.

After Sorey left, Mikleo submerged himself in his work. He thought he'd be lonely and depressed, since having Sorey around had been so joyful and energizing, but this time he felt at peace. Sorey was off doing what he'd always wanted to do, and he would be back soon. Knowing that his beloved was happily living out his dream was comforting. Knowing that he had done what was best for both of them by giving Sorey the space to find himself and do as he pleased, made the pain of separation bearable.

Sorey was gone a lot longer than expected, but there was no reason to worry. The normin patrolling the area happily exchanged gossip for supplies, and they reported that there was an itinerant lightning seraph in the vicinity of Camlann. Any time that Mikleo started to worry about Sorey, he had but to find the nearest normin, and within days was assured that there was still a lively young lightning seraph present in the Camlann domain. What exactly Sorey was doing in Camlann, Mikleo wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to worry about it, either.

Then, about a year after he'd left, Sorey returned to Elysia, triumphant. Mikleo had put the finishing touches on his report the month before and had then descended into a long slumber to pass the time, so he awoke to the raucous greeting Sorey got from the rest of the tiny village. Sorey had cut his long hair down to shoulder length, accentuating the golden tips to his white hair. He looked slightly different in other, unexplainable ways, too.

He reported that he'd finally tracked down Maotelus and had enlisted the old seraph's help in learning to control his growing electrical power. He was now able to summon great electrical storms and impressive lightning bolts. The display he put on for his fellow Elysian residents reminded Mikleo of some of the tricks old Gramps used to do to entertain the boys when they were young.

When he got him alone, Mikleo greeted Sorey with a huge smile and “Welcome home, Sorey. I've missed you.”

“It's good to be back. I've missed you too, Mikleo.” Sorey then hugged him. “Are you done with your writing?”

“I am, yes. Finished it about a month ago.”

“Good! Are you interested in accompanying me on another expedition? I got a hot tip from Maotelus about some ruins that are buried beneath Camlann, and I thought you'd like to come with me. These sound like they're _really_ old. They may be the oldest ruins on Glenwood!”

 

* * *

 

The confession, when it did finally come, happened suddenly, out of the blue, and it wasn't at all what he expected. It was years after their reunion, when they were relaxing in Elysia after a long expedition of ruins exploration. They were just preparing to make the journey down the mountain to Ladylake, because they had heard that there was a brand new Shepherd there, that a young woman had drawn the Sacred Blade from the pedestal and become the newest Shepherd, and they were hoping to visit with Lailah before the new Shepherd took her off and away somewhere.

It was evening, they were sitting on the roof of the house they now shared together, looking up at the stars in the night sky, when Sorey got the jump on Mikleo, in a manner of speaking.

“You know, Mikleo, I've been trying for years to figure out what this feeling is.” He patted his chest gently. “I don't know why it took me so long to realize what it is. I'm not even sure why I just now realized what it is. But I do know now.” He looked over, tilting his head. “It's love. I love you. And... I feel like I've always loved you. I think I loved you back when I was still a human. That must be why, when I first woke up, I remembered your name, even though I could remember nothing else.”

Caught completely off guard with how casual the confession was, Mikleo was flummoxed and had to shut his mouth tight, lest he start stammering. He marshaled his thoughts into an array before he allowed himself to speak; “I love you, Sorey, and I have loved you for centuries now. I _know_ I have always loved you.”

There was an awkward silence. This wasn't at all what Mikleo had envisioned a love confession would be like. He'd fantasized about passionate gazes, tender kisses, sensuous embraces and breathless words. He'd envisioned things he'd read about in books. He had never considered the possibility of a casual, comfortable admission of affection. And yet, here it was.

“You must have been so lonely while I was with Maotelus.” Sorey reached over to rest his hand next to Mikleo's, giving him an opening to make a move himself. “I'm sorry for that.”

“I was, but it couldn't be helped. You had to do what you had to do.” He moved his hand to cover Sorey's. “And I'll be honest, it's made a better seraph out of me. In any case, you shouldn't feel bad. You're here with me now, aren't you?”

Sorey groaned in good nature and then smiled; “I have no intentions of ever leaving your side again, Mikleo.”

“I'm glad to hear that. We make a good team, you know.” _And, dare I say it, I think we'll make a good couple._

Another brief awkward silence ensued, before Sorey laughed self-consciously; “So now what do we do? Now that we've gotten our feelings out into the open, what happens next?”

“Well,” Mikleo gave him his best coy look, “I could say 'Kiss me, you fool' but... I think we should probably get down from here and finish our packing. It's getting late and we're going to want to get an early start in the morning.”

“I like your other idea too,” Sorey said as they both started to stand up. Then, the lightning seraph acted quickly (as was his wont, being a lightning seraph), closing the gap between them and sealing the confession with a kiss. It was an awkward, misaligned one – their lips didn't meet up quite properly, and in his eagerness, Sorey also bumped Mikleo in a very gentle headbutt. This wasn't at all like what happened in books and stories when two lovers shared a kiss for the first time. It would be very easy to laugh hysterically at this (and later, in fact, both of them would do so, recollecting this moment.) But for now, it was a bold move that froze Mikleo in place.

The only thought left in the water seraph's head at that moment, and for several breaths afterward, was the most abstract thing: _This was worth the wait._

Then, he did the most natural thing in the world, given who he was with, who he was, and what had just happened.

He pushed him off the roof.

“What was that for?” Sorey protested as he caught himself with some magnetic artes, landing gently and deftly in the grass.

“That was for making a complete mess of my confession, you jerk!” He grinned down at him, before hopping off the low roof himself to land beside Sorey. “I had three hundred years to plan how I was going to tell you that I love you, and you go and ruin it with this casual confession?”

“Somehow, I don't think you planned this at all.” Sorey took a playful swipe at him, and he danced out of the other seraph's reach. “I'm not the only one who made this awkward!”

Mikleo laughed and reached over, grabbing Sorey by the collar and pulling him close. “You're so dense. I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with you!” Then he silenced his new lover with a torrid kiss. This time, it wasn't awkward at all.

Maybe packing for their journey could wait a little while.


End file.
